Musings of a Horrible Tragic Case
by Thredbo
Summary: An exploration of what Patrick Jane is really thinking about when he is "sleeping" on the couch. Jane/Lison, Rigsby/Van Pelt.


Disclaimer 1: I don't own mentalist. Characters are consistent with their storylines in Season 1, don't know if I've contradicted anything in season 2.

Disclaimer 2: Jane and Couch pairings were started by Kink Fluff Angst, I'm just borrowing the idea. I'll put it back when I'm done.

Summary: What Jane is really thinking about when he's "sleeping" on the couch.

Author's Note: This story was an exercise in spontaneity so sorry if there are bits that don't make sense.

**Musings of a Horrible Tragic Case.**

One thing I've noticed about sleeping on the couch is that a lot of people seem to forget that there are times when I'm not actually asleep!

Lisbon knows that I'm not asleep so she will talk very loudly just to make doubly sure that I get the message.

"... So then that _stupid_ Jane has to go in and _talk_ to the husband. Now he's clamped up and won't say anything."

No one replied that I could hear so I'm assuming that she's talking on the phone to someone. Probably Minelli. She'll thank me when the son finally comes forward, although that probably won't happen for at least another two or three days.

"He can hear you." Good old Van Pelt.

"Let him." Lisbon replies loudly as she got off the phone.

"Put down your date of birth. That always works." Cho was telling someone. Probably Rigsby.

I'm guessing the suggestion is either for a new code or locker combination. Or Rigsby has ventured out into the world of lottery tickets.

"Nah, I'll ask Jane. If he can hit the jackpot with Poker, he can win anything." Says Risby.

OK guess the second scenario is correct. Now to figure out why Rigsby is suddenly interested in winning the lottery. Of course, if he was to ask me, I'd tell him the same thing, put in his date of birth, college student number and/or his telephone number. I do have my own methods, but everybody's gotta learn on their own as well.

"What are you boys up to?" Asks Lisbon.

"Do you think there's such a thing as karma?" Rigsby enquires.

"Not really, why?"

"Because lotto is based on chance right?"

"Where are you going with this?"

"Chance is too big a coincidence. Either the system is rigged or something else is deciding who wins and who doesn't."

"You think that God is behind lottery wins?" Van Pelt asked, confused.

"No, I just don't think that it's based on chance only." Rigsby replies.

OK, I'm waiting for the punch line because I don't think that Rigsby is that gullible. Or he's playing on to Van Pelt's admission that she believes in fate and several other questionable supernatural entities.

"Well, when you work out the name of the lottery god, let me know and I'll be sure to give him an offering on your behalf." Lisbon cuts in. "In the meantime, you and Cho can go chase up the boyfriend, because I think the husband is lying."

She always does that – when Van Pelt and Rigsby are trying to bond. Office politics, I'm staying out of that one.

"Van Pelt..." Lisbon started.

"Please don't make me Jane sit. The last time we tried that, my car was at the mechanics for a whole month afterwards." Van Pelt pleaded. She forgot to mention that she'd had a crush on the man that forced us into the driving situation.

"He's asleep; he doesn't need to be sat." Lisbon pointed out.

No, what I need right now is three hours in a sauna, but unfortunately, the CBI doesn't have one.

"Is he actually asleep?" Said Van Pelt.

"No, he's faking it." Cho replied.

Of course Cho wasn't fooled by my eyes being closed either. I suspect that that was why he hasn't said much. He doesn't want to let loose anything that he doesn't want me to hear. Though he hears almost as much as I do, so I don't know what he's complaining about.

"Van Pelt, you're with me." Lisbon commanded.

At least she's calling them by name now. When we first started everybody was just "you", "you" and "you".

Everybody's gone now. Lisbon was probably taking Van Pelt out to check on a stolen vehicle report to see if the tires match the tracks that were found near the swamp.

I wasn't alone though. That was the good thing about staying at the CBI office, there was pretty much activity every hour of the day, some more busy than others. Our unit is one of three that shares the same office space and so phones will keep ringing and frantic footsteps will continue to be heard even if the team are out as they are now.

Lisbon and I have an uneasy truce going at the moment. She's sick of chasing me and having to clean things up without Minelli knowing, and I'm sick of being chased and being told that I take a lot of cleaning up.

"You do you're thing and I'll do mine. If I don't have to know about it, don't tell me and when I ask, if I don't absolutely have to know, don't answer. Actually I won't bother to ask you anyway because you never tell regardless of who gets killed in the process." She had said to me earlier that day.

She's trying out Minelli's policy with me, but I'll give her a day and a half at most before she comes chasing me again and wanting to know everything no matter how much I protest.

I like working with Lisbon because she doesn't act like I'm a walking talking tragic case. You know how cancer patients hate talking about cancer? Well, horrible tragic cases hate talking about their horrible tragic case too. Not that anybody really does talk about Red John much around here, but most of the time they don't need to talk.

I can see it in their eyes, in their movements and their postures. I can hear it in their manner of speech and in their conversations with other people. They all think that I am a time bomb that will explode any minute. None of them will voice it, obviously, or even acknowledge it as a lot of it is unconscious. But I can see it because I've been trained to. Sometimes I really wish that I could turn this hypersensitivity off. But I can't.

I hope that Rigsby is serious this time round. He's bought himself a lottery ticket which means he's starting to become more concerned about saving up for something. He's starting to eat a lot less pizza too. He doesn't realise that Van Pelt is ready for him. She just doesn't know how to express it.


End file.
